


A Serpent in a Lion's Den

by her_silhouette



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, post!series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-25 23:18:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3828580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/her_silhouette/pseuds/her_silhouette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scorpius Malfoy had started his journey to Hogwarts with such promise, but when something unexpected happens, it changes his whole world. Eventually, though, things have a way of turning around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Serpent in a Lion's Den

**Author's Note:**

> Title: A Serpent in a Lion’s Den  
> Fandom: Harry Potter (Post!Series)  
> Characters: Scorpius Malfoy, Albus Severus Potter, James Sirius Potter, Hugo Weasley, Sammy Thomas (OC), and Deaglan Finnigan (OC)  
> Prompt: The Shrieking Shack has long since been abandoned. It’s Christmas break, there isn’t anything to do but take stupid bets.   
> Word Count: 8.3k  
> Rating: G  
> Summary: Scorpius Malfoy had started his journey to Hogwarts with such promise, but when something unexpected happens, it changes his whole world. Eventually, though, things have a way of turning around.  
> Author’s Notes: This is for stereotypicalantagonist, who was my 100th follower. She asked for a Harry Potter fic and the above prompt. It started out as one thing, and turned into something quite different. This is based on headcanon I’ve had for a while and part of this is based on a story I had in the works but never got a chance to write. Enjoy!

“Shhh!”

“Quiet!”

“I can’t see!”

“Well, if you had brought your wand.”

“Why are we going this way?”

“Ow! That was my foot!”

Scorpius Malfoy deemed himself unlucky, indeed. He wasn’t sure what he had done to deserved this turn of events, but he was sure he was paying for his father’s mistakes tenfold.

He remembered being an idealist, a bright-eyed first year that had gotten on the train to Hogwarts with the expectation of following in his father’s glorious footsteps and eventually becoming one of the greatest Slytherins in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had ever known. That bubble burst fast the second the Sorting Hat had been placed on his head and not even a second later shouted out a name he had feared the most and had caused the largest gasps in Sorting history, he was sure.

_“Gryffindor!”_

He had wanted to die from the shame right there, to just dissolve into a puddle of tears and brand new robes. Instead, he had been ushered to his spot at the Gryffindor table, pushed all the way at the edge. He looked around at the stunned and confused faces, those quickly turned to indifference or mild disdain. He wouldn’t learn until later that many of the children surrounding him had parents who had fought in the Battle of Hogwarts and thus instantly distrusted him, thinking he was just as much of a traitor as his father was. He had turned to look at the Slytherin table, expecting to find a friendly face of some of the kids he had grown up with, or least one of the new friends he had met on the train ride, but found himself quite abandoned. All of their eyes were turned away in shame and discomfort.

So it had been an uncomfortable and lonely experience, these past two and a half years, being a traitorous snake, as he’s been called, in a den of lions. He was a pariah in his own house with prejudice of the most recent war still heavy in the air. He had tried to fall back onto his family’s well known arrogance and had spent most of his first year with his nose stuck in the air. This soon proved to be a mistake, because cries of “my father will” were either laughed at or ignored and while no one actually went out of their way to bully him past the sneers and the occasional bump in the hallway, Scorpius was forced into isolation and decided to just keep his head down and avoid confrontation as much as possible, and then maybe, just maybe, he could get out of this Merlin-forsaken place and move far away. Siberia sounded nice.

There had been only one glimmering light in all this and it came from most unlikely of sorts. Albus Severus Potter. He had been sorted just a few people behind him, but Potter’s sorting into Gryffindor hadn’t been met with the loud gasps like his, but a thunderous cheer. Potter had been pink cheeked and had a look of stunned relief plastered on his face as he was welcomed with open arms and pulled into the middle section where his older brother, James Sirius, had claimed residence.

Even though he was a scrawny, brash-mouthed second year, James Potter already everyone eating out of the palm of his hands and made sure no one messed with his baby bro. Not that anyone would, for not only did Albus carry around that treasured last name, but he was the splitting image of his dear ole’ dad, which gave him bonus points. But unlike the red-headed James, who had miles of fans who followed him wherever he went, the dark-haired Al, as everyone soon learned to call him, was quiet and seemed to rebuff the efforts that instant stardom had given him. He hung out with his cousin, Rosie Weasley, and a select few others, but mostly kept to himself.

Al Potter had been cordial enough to him, and there were several times he caught him staring with a look of pity and sympathy. He certainly seemed to be the only willing to pair up with him in class if Rosie wasn’t busy with someone else, and more than once extended an invitation to hang out, but Scorpius declined every offer. He was already in bad terms with his father over this whole sorting nonsense; there was no need to add more flame to the fire by actually becoming friends with the “Potter brat.”

But two years was a long time to spurn off the only friendly face in a sea of dissent, and loneliness wore down his prideful exterior. When Al had come by and given him a hello on the train ride at the beginning of their third year, he had given a stiff hello back, which led to a brief, stilted conversation at the opening feast. That turned into lunch at least twice a week and Scorpius joining in on Rosie’s study sessions on Thursday nights. Soon, the snide remarks stopped and no one ran into him anymore because Harry Potter’s youngest son walked beside him in the hallways, sat by him in the classroom, and at next to him in the Great Hall. The other boys in their tower bedroom grew comfortable enough around him to start including him in on their nighttime conversations and for the first time in years, Scorpius felt like he truly belonged.

And he had been happy to leave it at that, to have at least one friend who would stick by him. He was content to just to hide behind Al Potter’s shadow for the rest of his school years. But no, Al wasn’t having that at all. Now that he let the annoying boy into his life, he seemed to make it his personal mission to ruin it, by getting him to be liked by the whole Gryffindor house.

Scorpius told him that he was crazy, that he had landed on his head too many times at Quidditch practice, but Al just laughed.

“Maybe,” Al had told him, “but I still think you’re a pretty cool bloke, once you let people see it. And I know just the way to go about it.”

Apparently, his way to go was to get Scorpius in with the most popular kid in Gryffindor: his older brother.

Two and half years had not only given James height and weight, but also social grace. While he had been popular before, riding the curtails of his father’s legacy, he had gained his own reputation as the BMOC. While not necessarily the prankster his namesakes were, everyone knew that if there was a fun time to be had, James Potter was the person to turn to. Next in line to be Quidditch captain as soon as his cousin, Freddie Weasley, graduated, James was also smart and witty, and all the fourth-years were placing bets that he’d be Head Boy. Everyone knew that if someone were to be in with the eldest Potter boy, they’d be in every.

Scorpius knew that the day the Pride of Gryffindor Tower became his best friend would be a cold day in hell indeed, and just rolled his eyes at the absurdness of his friend (his heart still palpated at the thought). He clearly thought this plan would fail, because while James hadn’t been the one to start the sneers, he surely never deterred them. In fact, Scorpius secretly feared that if Albus tried to push the stupid thought that Draco Malfoy’s disappointment of a son could be friends with the Hero of the Wizarding World’s most popular kid, James would actually try to talk Al out of being friends with him. And despite what he says otherwise, Scorpius knew that Al worshiped the ground his big brother walked on.

So one could have colored Scorpius surprised when a few days before the Christmas break started, James Potter sat down at Scorpius and Albus’ table in the library.

“So, Al said you wanted in with the rest of the Gryffindors,” James had said while giving the blond teen a smirk. While he wasn’t exactly loud, they were in a library with high bookshelves and the rest of the occupants were talking in soft murmurs, if they were speaking at all. Scorpius had seen several heads turn in their direction and could only imagine what was going in there heads when one of the most popular boy in the school was talking to the pariah. He wanted to punch the smug boy in the face, friendship be damned, and storm away, but the eagerness in Albus’s face caused him pause.

“Not really…” he muttered, looking back down at his notes to make sure he had copied the ingredients right before proceeding with his potions paper. He saw from his peripheral Albus give him an exasperated look before he turned back to his brother.

“Yes, really,” Albus said, his voice determined. Scorpius had looked up at that and was touched at the conviction in his friend’s voice. “You think you could help with that?”

James looked from Scorpius, to his brother, then back with a calculating look on his face, as if he was determining the value of the endeavor. He then looked quickly, for a split second to the side, where some first year Gryffindors were trying to eavesdrop discreetly, which is to say, not discreetly at all, but before Scorpius could either give them a stink eye for butting in with their business or even wonder if they were in on the obvious prank James was about to pull on him, the older boy spoke up.

“Well, that depends,” James stated, sitting back, that smug look back on his face after his perusal of the two boys. “What’s it gonna cost you?”

Albus let out a loud sigh that only brought more attention to them, but at least he let his voice lower as he leaned over the table.

“I already said I’d give you all the treats I get for Christmas. You know Uncle George will give us loads,” Albus hissed, his voice showing his desperation.

“Oh that?” James said, his eyebrow lifting, taking in the affronted look on his brother’s face before getting back to business, “that was merely my payment for this interview. If Malfoy wants in with my crowd, I expect a payment from him as well.”

Scorpius couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling at this. This was ridiculous. “What?” He asked, his voice terse, “You want my candy, too? You know very well that my dad doesn’t send me anything.” And he didn’t. As soon as he realized that he had a Gryffindor as a son, he father barely spoke to him much less send him gifts the way his grandfather had sent him. His mother rarely went against her husband when it came to parenting him, and his grandfather might as well be dead for all the times he’s reached out to him. The only person who seemed to give a damn about him in his family was his grandmother and he’d rather rot in this hell by himself before he let go of one treat Grandma Cissy sent him. Cissy had extended an invitation to him to stay with her over the winter break, but the thought of having to look at the sneering displeasure from his grandfather’s face put him off for the second year in a row. It was the only reason why he would rather spend his break with virtual strangers than to see his own family hate him.

This year wasn’t supposed to be too bad, especially since the Potter and Weasley crew would be staying also due to their parents traveling abroad and almost none of the children wanted to go to Romania again. That meant he had at least Albus, and maybe Rose, to talk to even if everyone else ignored him.

The superior look on James’s face cracked at the mention of Scorpius’s father and he was sure he thought he saw a look of pity before the mask was put up again, though the playfulness had fallen away a bit and he became more serious.

“No, I require that kind of payment,” James answered. “What I need is more proof than currency.”

“Proof?” Scorpius asked, which caused Albus to chew slightly on his bottom lip and for Rose to finally lift her head from her homework and stare at her cousin. “What kind of proof?”

There was a smile on James’s face that both predatory and strangely comforting, for it was the first time the boy had ever sent a look like this to him. Scorpius tried to suppress the butterflies of uneasiness and something else he couldn’t describe and swallowed nervously. This caused that smile to grow before he answered the question.

“Proof that you really are a Gryffindor,” James said simply. “If you want to be in with the rest of the Gryffindors, you need to prove to them that you are one.”

Scorpius felt a scowl form on his face as the old wound was poked at. “I thought the Sorting Hat already did that for you,” he said darkly, the butterflies dropping in his stomach like as stone.

“Yeah,” James’s voice was equally dark, his handsome face clouding slightly, “Well, it’s been known to be wrong before.” Scorpius, no matter how foul of a mood he was in now, couldn’t stop the confused look on his face, especially since he saw the sadness start to etch across Albus’s.

“What do you mean?” Scorpius couldn’t help but ask.

“My granddad, one of his best friends was a Gryffin, but he turned out to be nothing but a traitor. My granddad protected the little rat almost all of his life and he still ended dead ‘cause he sold him out to Voldemort.”

Scorpius felt himself color with both embarrassment at the mention of his father’s old boss and sentiment at the obvious betrayal that James Potter’s namesake still felt. However, he allowed his anger to push through at the thought of being compared with the infamous Peter Pettigrew. Scorpius furiously started grabbing his things.

“Well, in case you haven’t noticed, your dad took care of ol’ Voldemort, so it isn’t like I can rat you guys out again,” Scorpius hissed through his clenched teeth. “And I don’t have to prove anything to anybody, especially to you.”

He started to get up from the table but Albus, with the reflexes of a Seeker, quickly snatched his arm and stilled his assent. He quickly sent a glare at his older brother before calmly addressing his blond friend.

“He didn’t mean it like that,” Albus said soothingly. “He just means that if you did something courageous and daring, the other Gryffindors will warm up to you, welcome you into the fold. Right, James?” That last part had a little bite to it and James, who was looking warily at the two of them, shrugged lazily and put back on his easy grin.

“That’s exactly it,” he said, running his hand through his red hair with casual grace. He looked at Scorpius with his wide brown eyes that Scorpius knew was just like his mother’s. He turned to Albus, who looks so much like his father it was the talk of the school when he first came. Scorpius was also an exact replica of his own father and hated every similarity he had with the man who had all but abandoned him.  As much as he disliked James and his smug face, the thought of acceptance and comradery was like water to man traveling in the desert. It was a combination of those thoughts and the pleading look on Albus’s face that made him settle back down and motioned James to continue.

“Fine,” he said begrudgingly and he saw the twin smiles on the brothers’ faces. “What do I have to do?”

James leaned back, propping his chair up on the back to legs as he put his hands behind his head. “You have to spend the night in the Shrieking Shack.”

Scorpius was incredulous, which he was sure was quite evident on his face, and opened his mouth to question the authenticity of the request when another voice overpowered his.

“But you’re not allowed to go there!”

Scorpius turned his head and saw that the three first years that had been staring earlier all completely abandon the work they were doing. The voice had belonged to Hugo Weasley, Rose’s little brother, while the other two twerps, Sammy Thomas and Deaglan Finnigan watched in silent fascination. The little pipsqueak barely said a few words to him, obviously finding the older boy terrifying. But this time Hugo wasn’t staring horrified at the blond Gryffindor, but with defiance at his older cousin.

James rolled his eyes at the intrusion. “Go away, brat.” He looked ready to ignore the intrusion but with the famous Weasley stubbornness, Hugo wasn’t to be deterred.  

“Dad said we should never go there,” Hugo insisted.  “It’s outside of school limits.”

“Yeah, and your dad never stepped off of school property a day in his life,” James said sarcastically, “Right.”

He turned back to Scorpius with interest. “So, are you in?”

“Spend the night in a dusty old house?” Scorpius scoffed. “Hardly a courageous feat.”

“Not if it’s haunted,” James said with a grin, making his brown eyes sparkle enticingly. No wonder everyone fell over themselves wanting to please him, Scorpius thought uncomfortably, he could probably get away with murder with that haughty smile.

“But Dad said it’s not,” Hugo piped in again, narrowing his eyes at James. “That was just Teddy’s dad when he was a werewolf.”

The tall red-head looked up to the ceiling as if he was asking for a deities help before letting out a frustrated sign. “Yeah, that was before Severus Snape died there.”

Nobody said a word for a full minute. There was a look of horror on the three first-year faces, a look of internal contemplation on Albus’s, and a look of glee on James’s. Everyone knew the details of what had transpired in the Shrieking Shack that night Voldemort was finally defeated, despite Harry Potter trying to keep it under wraps for the former Potions Master’s dignity. But for a secret school of witchcraft and wizardry, it was hard to keep things secret. Severus Snape had died a horrific death, something that made even the strongest fighters turn their heads away when he was finally brought out of the house. Scorpius knew, from all accounts, that Snape probably had expected that that was the likely outcome when he entered the Shack at Voldemort’s request, that the famous Slytherin had more courage than cunning that night.

“What?” Hugo finally said, his voice a whole octave higher than normal. The sound pleased Scorpius and he had to bite back a grin.

“Yeah,” James said, nonchalant. “Old Grease-Ball’s death was so bad, that it left his spirit to violently rip from his body and now haunts the old house. So now it’s haunted for real.”

“Y-you’re lying!” Hugo stuttered out, looking terrified.

“Why the heck would I lie?” James asked. “Besides, it’s not like I’m going to let you go. So but out, I’m talking to this lot.”

Suddenly, Scorpius could the fear melt away slightly and indignation replace it as the prominent emotion in Hugo’s face.

“Why not?” he huffed.

“’Cause, you’re a baby,” James said, his voice sounded bored despite the delight on his face. “And besides, it’s Malfoy who needs prove himself. You’re too young to do it.”

“Can too!” Hugo cried out, earning a disgruntle look from Madam Pince, the aged librarian. Those she was getting up in years, she hadn’t lost her severity. James, seeing trouble brewing, grabbed his cousin and forced him to sit down at the table.

“Shh!” James hissed, “Do you want to get us kicked out?”

“How come you can let Malfoy go and I can’t?”

“I already told you, this is so Malfoy can hang with the cool kids.”

“But we want to hang with the cool kids!” Hugo argued. Behind him, he saw Sammy and Deaglan nod in earnest.

“Really?” James said, his voice sounding in disbelief, but there was that strange twinkle in James’s eyes that caused Scorpius to be slightly suspicious. “So you’ll spend the whole night in the Shrieking Shack with Malfoy to prove it?”

Hugo hesitated, turning to give Scorpius a pitiful look, which he returned with a glare of his own. That was enough for James to give a knowing smirk.

“I thought not,” he claimed, turning away from the smaller kid as if that were the end of the discussion but just as quickly Hugo grabbed his arm to turn him back to him.

“Deal!” He exclaimed, as quiet as he could, though not enough to not still draw even more attention to him. “Deal, deal, deal!”

The triumphant look on James’s face was a glorious thing to behold and it almost made Scorpius forget that he had just agreed to spend the night in a supposedly haunted shack with the youngest Weasley brat and his tiny posse. Almost.

“Great,” James said, taking his leave of them. Scorpius quickly turned to Albus with a look that clearly screamed, ‘What did you just get me into?’ while the dark-haired youth quickly gave him a soothing and encouraging look. “See you in a few days. Later, lions and potential-lions.”

And that is how Scorpius found himself in his current predicament, following James Potter, three tiny firsties, and Albus following from behind in a secret tunnel that had been revealed when one of the Potter boys had cast Wingardium Leviosa on a branch to calm the Whomping Willow. They were now in passageway that Scorpius assumed lead either directly to the Shrieking Shack or at least close by. At first, when James had told him that they had a secret passage after inquiring about how they were going to get there despite majority of school being gone for the beginning of break, he had been skeptical. After they told him the tale of Teddy Lupin’s father, though, he stopped questioning it. He was in awe of Albus’s namesake’s ingenuity at finding a way for an outcast to attend school. As an outcast himself, he couldn’t help but admire the former headmaster.

Scorpius couldn’t believe he had to spend the whole night with these whiny brats, who hadn’t even stepped out of the common room before they started complaining. Granted, Hugo did the most of it, probably because he was related to James and Albus and dismissive of Scorpius. He acted naturally (a natural brat) around his cousins while the other two were notably still in awe of them because of their status in the community and fear of him. Sadly, that hadn’t lasted too long as they trekked to their destination. Despite the cold, they all warmed up quickly and it was enough to loosen anyone’s tongue, but especially a trio of smart-arsed eleven-year-olds. They had clambered through the tunnel with their mouths running non-stop and had it not been too dark, he would have turned and given Albus a glare. It was bad enough that he had to suffer through what is essentially hazing, but to do with these monsters.

It was a blessing to finally set foot into the dusty old house because it caused the firsties to fall to silence as they stared about in awe and fear. Scorpius himself looked around in silence and couldn’t help the chill that ran up his spine. The place was darker than he had pictured, even though they could still see slivers of light from the sun that was still an hour away from setting outside, and there was a lot more damage than he had anticipated. He knew, a lot of it had come from the transformations of Remus Lupin, but he had assumed that they would have repaired things after he came back to normal. But he guessed that just like Bill Weasley, once something is destroyed by werewolf it was permanently damaged.  Still, neither of those things had given him pause.

It was the fact that he knew the person who died there, or to be more exact, knew of. He was well aware of the lives that had been lost in the castle and on Hogwarts’ grounds. They weren’t exactly faceless ' nameless, either, because there was a plaque set up in the entrance hall honoring all those who had died during or shortly after The Battle for Hogwarts. All students had to pass by the brass embossed portraits almost every day, a constant reminder of those who gave their lives to ensure that they would still have a safe environment to learn magic. More than once, Scorpius found himself staring at those lost souls, who were all had been braver than his father, been braver than himself.

But perhaps not braver than his grandmother, who had lied to Voldemort’s face and was able to bring Harry Potter back to the castle where the Dark Lord had his final battle with The Boy Who Lived and thus met his downfall. It was from her he had learned of Severus Snape. He remembered that summer before he boarded the Hogwart’s Express for the first time, and had been filled with so much questions to everyone he knew. They all had given him stories about their own experiences and gave him what he had later learned was vapid advice. When he had asked Grandma Cissy, she hadn’t answered him immediately. She sat in silence for a moment while he had started eating the biscuits from their afternoon tea before she started talking. She didn’t talk about her first train ride or what was her favorite subject. She didn’t even give him sage words of wisdom on how he should conduct himself while at school. Instead, she talked about her favorite teacher, who had actually been a school mate of hers and the godfather of his father. Severus Snape hadn’t had an easy life, Grandma Cissy told him, but he became one of the most prolific Potion Masters the school had ever seen. True, the students didn’t like him much, and she would fully admit that he was a bully to those he deemed unsuited to practice his particular specialty. But, despite the fact that he seemed unloving and uncaring, he proved otherwise with his actions by saving life of a student.

Scorpius of course had heard the story about how Snape had protected Harry Potter throughout his tenure at school and told his grandmother thus. But she had shaken her head and given him a little smile.

“While that is true,” she said gently. “I was speaking of another child.”

She then told him about how two years before Severus had died, she had gone to him in secret to ask for his help.

“I’m not going to sugarcoat it, my sweet,” she said, her face strangely tight. “We were a part of some bad things, even though we thought we were doing some good at the time.”

One of those bad things, it turned out, had been his Grandfather Lucius failing a mission for the Dark Lord and thus Voldemort had decided to punish him through his son. What was the punishment, his grandmother never told him, but it was enough for her to go to Snape to ask for protection for her son. He also never found out how far Severus Snape had gone to protect his father, but obviously he had succeeded if Scorpius was alive today to listen to this abbreviated tale. His grandmother would only say that she was indebted to him and that Scorpius should not be quick to judge others as some were so willing to judge them.

Perhaps she knew what prejudices he was walking into when he got to school and that none of her advice would be warranted. He figured that this was her way of saying that even if a person is disliked or distrusted, that didn’t mean that they were a bad person.

When he turned out to become an outcast himself, for he was neither snake nor lion, he turned to his grandmother’s advice, and started researching about the man that had saved both his and Albus’s fathers. There wasn’t much, except for old newspapers, but they seemed inconsistent and misinformed, especially around the time just before his death. So the aspect of spending the night in the place where he had died had given him a strange euphoria. Though he seriously doubted James’s claims of the haunting, if by chance he was correct, perhaps the Ghost of Severus Snape would shed some light on his current predicament. Because despite Albus Severus Potter’s best efforts, he wasn’t sure this plan to get James involved was going to come to fruition, especially if he had to babysit three brats while he was at it.

“Okay,” James said, with that beaming smile on his face. He looked around the place as if it were a five-star resort rather than a shabby piece of nothing. “You guys should go ahead and get settled in. It’s going to be a long night for you.”

Scorpius saw the three younger boys gulp and look fearfully at each other, and could help the smirk on his face. He turned away so it wouldn’t be noticeable and set his things down in what he supposed was the living room. He surely didn’t want to trek up what looked like some loose stairs to get to one of the bedrooms and he doubted the kiddies wanted to be split up. He quickly snatched a seat cushion, which was surprisingly intact compared to the rest of the couch, and placed it on the floor next to the fireplace. Rosie had shown him not to long ago how to create that bluebell flame her mother had been famous for. He knew it would give off a decent amount of heat with a minimal amount of smoke, for he didn’t want to attract any nosy person from the Hogsmeade village. He was starting to take some of his things to prepare for the night, a blanket, a couple of school books, a Quidditch magazine, ink and quill, and a few snacks, when the trio started their whining.

“Are we supposed to stay here?” Sammy asked fearfully, looking at the dusty coverings.

“There’s no beds!” cried Deaglan.

“Well,” James said, scratching his chin as if contemplating something. “There’s beds upstairs. That is, if you want to go up yourselves…”

“No!” Hugo squeaked, grabbing Sammy and Deaglan by the back of their cloaks to ensure that they didn’t start walking off by themselves, though by the way they stared fearfully at the dilapidated staircase, they hadn’t even thought of even attempting them. “We’ll be fine here.”

He tried to sound nonchalant, perhaps realizing they weren’t sounding very brave at the moment, but his voice was still abnormally high.

“Yeah, we’ll see,” James said before turning away from them, eyeing the shining sun peeking through the boarded up windows. “Sun will set in about an hour, and you guys just have to stay here until the sun comes back up and you’ll prove to everyone you belong to Gryffindor.”

“Are you going to be okay here?” Scorpius turned to the soft voice to his right and saw Albus looking worriedly at him. He felt his insides warm at the concern his friend was showing him. It was something he thought for a long time he would never have. He decided then and there that he would spend this stupid night at this stupid shack just for Albus. He didn’t care what the other Gryffindors thought. He just needed Albus.

“Yeah,” Scorpius said softly, giving his best friend a smile. “I’ll be just fine.”

The smile Albus gave was wondrous to behold. Scorpius couldn’t help but match it. They grinned at each other for a moment before Albus’s smile turned mischievous.  He slyly turned his gaze at the trio who were huddling near the sofa. The blond boy turned and looked at them before turning back to Albus with a questioning look. He knew his friend was trying to say something with that look, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure it out because his friend didn’t say anything other than, “Good luck!” and patted him on his back.

His friend didn’t give him any opportunities to verbally question him as he went directly to the tunnel entrance and started down. James followed in quick succession, turning before his head disappeared completely.

“Have a nice night, gentlemen!” he said cheekily before ducking down and Scorpius heard their footsteps grow farther away. He looked at the trio huddled in the center of the room, who gulped at the older students’ departure. They stood there, as if petrified. They didn’t move a muscle, except to shiver as the temperature continued to fall as night approached. This lasted a good five minutes, in which none of the party had could be called upon to speak. Finally as that sixth minute rolled around, Scorpius gave a frustrated sigh and scooted over to the side so there would be room for them at the hearth.

“C’mere,” he stated reluctantly, unable to stand the pitiful faces of his fellow adventurers any longer. With a grateful and slightly nervous look, the boys shuffled over, the hands grasping tightly to their meager belongings, and sat down in front of the magical fire. They stayed huddled together, keeping a clear foot between Sammy and Scorpius. The taller boy tried not to take offense and busied himself with going through his own sack and pulling out his potions book. Shooting a furtive glance at the little boys, he opened it up to the chapter that they had left off on before break started and started reading. He was able to get through a few paragraphs, ignoring the whispers and the shuffling the boys to his left were doing, but he couldn’t ignore the mini explosion when started playing Exploding Snaps.

He quickly turned his head to them and they froze, unsure what the older boy would do now that they had disturbed him, but Scorpius just shook his head and went back to reading. They played a few more rounds before they paused, whispered to each other, and a meek voice rang out.

“Um,” Deaglan’s voice was tiny, “Malfoy?”

There was no hiss or spit added to the name, for these kids were too young to completely understand how the rest of Hogwarts dealt with traitorous names such as his, and it was the only thing that stopped him from completely ignoring the soft voice.

“Yes, Finnigan?” Scorpius asked, straining to be polite rather than put out.

“W-would you like to join us?” He asked, his sandy blond hair was kind of long and his brown eyes were semi-hidden behind his bangs. He held up a shuffled deck and extended it to Scorpius as an invitation.

Part of him, the one more in tune with his pride, wanted to tell the pipsqueak to back off and let him read in peace. It hadn’t been his idea, after all, to share this creepy shack with them so they had better learn their boundaries if they wanted to keep all of their limbs intact. But another part, one that sounded suspiciously like Albus, told him that what harm could they do? Three little wee things, who were scared and just wanted to have companionship, even if it is with the outcast of Gryffindor Tower. So he nodded his assent and accepted the cards. They played several rounds and didn’t stop until the sun had truly set. Then Ron Weasley’s son brought out his dad’s old, beat-up wizarding chess set and promptly beat every single opponent that stepped up to plate. Then they played Gobblestones, talked about Quidditch, and finally, after a few hours, they just started chatting about school.

It was amazing how much fun Scorpius was having, and how inquisitive they were about everything. They wanted to know what Hogsmeade was like, what were the upper year classes that much harder, was coming back to school after a break all that difficult. Once they got over their initial fear of him, they warmed up quite nicely. Of course, something would happen, as things always do, to burst that happy bubble.

The topic had turned from favorite subject to favorite teacher which eventually led to least favorite teachers, and since they were currently residing in a house where a professor had died, Severus Snape was automatically brought up, even though the man had died before any of them had even been thought of.

“I heard he became a bat and flew up to the Gryffindor tower to drink the blood of his least favorite students,” Deaglan claimed, putting his forefingers up to demonstrate long fangs.

“I heard,” Sammy whispered, “That his office was full of the brains of those who scored terrible on his exams.” His dark skin paling at the mere thought. Beside him, Hugo shivered, but put on a brave face.

“Yeah, well, I heard that he could enter your mind and see every one of your secrets.”

That brought the mood down considerably for Scorpius, who thought the increasingly tall tales reminiscence the tales told about his own father and of himself. Apparently, dying for a good cause wasn’t enough to gain reverence and stop bad things from being said about someone. It started to put Scorpius into a very sour mood and felt the sudden need to be alone with his thoughts. He knew he couldn’t very well move upstairs, because now the three boys were attacked, almost literally, to him. Of course, he could just leave the shack all together, but the imagined looks of triumphant on James’s face and the even more powerful look of disappointment on Albus’s told him that wasn’t an option either. He weighed the only other option he had available to him heavily for a minute before another image poured into his head: Albus’s mischievous smile.

Scorpius bit his lip to stop his own smile for showing and turned his attention to the other occupants of the Shrieking Shack, whose tales were becoming increasingly scarier and more unbelievable at the moment. He cleared his throat and all noise from the little boys stopped as they stared expectantly at him.

“I heard,” he said, his voice low. The delighted look of terror gleamed in their eyes as they leaned forward to hear him. All of their faces were pale in the blue light from the fire, giving off an eerie look about them and actually helped put Scorpius in the mindset he needed. “That before Snape died, he casted a spell. A horrible spell that would someday cause one lost little boy, if he was disliked enough, to become possessed by his wandering soul.”

“W-what?” Deaglan squeaked. “I never heard that!”

“Well,” he said, his voice solemn.  “The teachers don’t want it to get around, now would they? They didn’t want to scare the rest of the children.”

“Then,” Hugo asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “How do you know this?”

“Because,” he said simply, “They had to tell me.”

“Why?” Sammy asked.

“Because I am that sad little boy that everyone dislikes.” The sadness he put in his voice was one hundred percent false, and admitting it out loud did taste a bit bitter. “They had to warn me.”

The terror in the little boys’ faces were priceless and Scorpius had to again bite his lip to stop from laughing.

“B-b-but we like you!” Hugo said, with Deaglan and Sammy nodding their heads fast in agreement. Scorpius was a little taken aback by that and almost felt bad about what he was about to do, but felt he gone too far now to back out.

“Well,” Scorpius said gloomily, “you may be the only ones. And that’s not enough to-”

“No!” Sammy cried out. “Albus likes you too! And Rosie!”

Scorpius nodded his head and was about to wave the choices away to continue his plan when Hugo joined in again. “And James.”

That name gave him pause. “Really?” he asked, unable to help himself. He saw the trio nod their heads again. “Why?”

There was a pause, which caused a creak  to sound ominously loud. They all jumped a little, but after a quick look to see, they ignore it. There had been creaks and groans that had happened all night, and even though that was the closest and the loudest, they never saw anything. Scorpius turned back to them, imploring at what they meant.

Hugo shrugged, “I dunno, but I did see him telling off a bunch of sixth graders for being rude to you.”

Scorpius felt his ears reddening and was grateful for the cover of darkness that the blue hue that masked it. He filed that thought away for another day, where he could analyses it in private, but he had to finish this mission.

“Well,” Scorpius said, his voice sounding uncertain, “maybe that’s enough?”

“It has to!” Hugo exclaimed. “He’s the most popular kid in the school and if he can’t save you from Snape, no one can.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly, “you’re right. I’m sure we’ll be fine. Thanks-“

Just then, the bluebell fire went out as Scorpius whispered the incantation and shot at with the wand he had hidden at his side.  The three boys screams, which covered the chuckle he had let out accidently nicely. He quickly composed himself to call out in his most authoritative voice, “Stop that!”

“S-stop what?” one of the boys squeaked, his voice so high he couldn’t tell which one it had been.

“Let go of me, Sammy,” Scorpius groused, thankful for the darkness that hid his grin.

“I-I-I’m not touching you!” Sammy whispered, the fright clear in his voice. Scorpius paused a moment before he continued.

“Hugo?” he asked, putting on his most frightened sounding voice. “Deaglan?”

He could hear the fast shaking of their heads even though he couldn’t see it. He looked around, as if bewildered, knowing that they could at least see his silhouette due to the very little light from the moon shining through the boarded up windows. “Wh-who’s there?”

He let the sound of the first years’ heavy breathing fill the air before he let out a terrifying scream. All three boys joined him, jumping back from Scorpius as if he were made of fire. They huddled back up in the middle of the room, their backs to each other, but all of their heads were turned the older boy, who after only a few moments of scream, had just as suddenly gone silent.

A few more loud breaths where heard in the darkness before Scorpius, just as quietly as before, brought the fire back. He kept his hands at his side and his head down. His blond hair, not nearly as well kept as he usually kept it, fell over his eyes, hiding them from the boys’ view. He could hear them shuffle slightly, looking at each other for a moment before turning back to him.

“Malfoy?” Hugo asked, his voice timid. Scorpius didn’t answer, allowing his back to move slightly with his breathing.

He saw at the corner of his vision Hugo step closer, though the other two tried to pull him back.

“Scorpius?” he called out, brushing off the hands holding him back. He moved even closer in the breathy silence and with a voice that shook with his body, he asked, “S-Snape?”

At that, Scorpius shot his head up and grabbed Hugo by the front of his robes.

“It’s Professor Snape!” Scorpius hissed, letting drool dribble down his chin. He allowed his eyes to go wide and he stared unswervingly at the boy he “captured”, “And if you show me such disrespect ever again, I will put your brain in a jar with all of the other filthy miscreants!”

Hugo let out a terrifying scream and ripped himself away from Scorpius’s clawed hands and after grabbing the back of Deaglan and Sammy’s robes, propelled them to the tunnel entrance and they left, screaming, back towards Hogwarts.

Scorpius waited until their screams were muffled before throwing himself down on the floor and started giggling. The laughter had started small, but soon it grew and grew, until he was letting out huge barking laughs and he started to become breathless with merriment. That was the most fun he had had since he came to Hogwarts. He’d have to remember to thank Albus next time he saw him.

“That was brilliant!”

Scorpius let out a scream of surprise as Albus’s head appeared out of nowhere, a big bright smile spreading across his thin face. He had forgotten until that very moment that the Potter boys shared an invisible cloak. He toppled over and laid down on his back staring up at the dusty ceiling as he tried to catch his breath.

“You were here the whole time?” Scorpius wheezed out.

Albus shrugged off the cloak and moved to where he was smiling down at the boy on the floor. “Me and James both,” he said, before sitting down by him. He had a look of merriment and pride on his face, and Scorpius couldn’t find it in himself to stay angry at him despite the fact that his heart was still pounding. “But he slipped away as soon as we realized your plan. He wanted to make the passage safe for them as they fled, you, calm the Whomping Willow and all. It was a bit tricky, with the boards kept creaking as we moved.”

Scorpius remembered the creaks, but had thought it was just the sound of an old house settling in. But he had bigger questions he wanted answered.

“Why?” he asked. “What were you guys planning on doing?”

“Scare them, of course,” Albus said toothily. “That was the whole point in this, was to trick them into coming here and scaring the pants off of them.”

“This whole thing…” he trailed off, looking confused, before something tightened in his stomach. So, this wasn’t a test of his bravery. He felt unexplainably sad about that, even though he had thought this was stupid in the first place. He wasn’t sure if it showed on his face, or if Albus was just instinctive, but he quickly started to reassure them.

“Yeah, just to scare them,” he said gently, giving him a smile. “We wanted to get back at them for being gits last week, and we wanted you to join in.”

Scorpius blinked at him momentarily. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asked.

“James wanted to see what you would do,” Albus said, his smile widening. “He wanted to see if you had ‘the instinct.’”

“What instinct?”

“For mischief,” another voice rang out and the two boys on the floor turned to James, who was grinning from ear to ear. “And based on the looks on those three faces, you most certainly do.”

Albus jumped up and ran to his brother. “It was brilliant, James, just brilliant!” he exclaimed and proceeded to recap everything the older boy had missed while he was hiding in the tunnel. Scorpius took in Albus’s excited eyes but soon his gaze turned to James, who was giving his brother a fond look, before turning to Scorpius himself and the looked turned to amusement and something akin to pride. He felt himself blush at the scrutiny and felt something warm start to swell in the pit of his stomach, something so completely different to the cold indifference he usually felt. It was something akin to gratitude and pleasure, and he knew it had something to do with the proud look on his best friend’s face and the open acceptance and mirth on James’s. He could help but grin back and as AL finished his tale, the other two helped him up and proceeded to thump him proudly on the back.

“Well done, young Gryffindor,” James said, and for the first time since he became one, Scorpius couldn’t detect any resentment or disgust behind that word when directed to him. “I think it’s finally time to welcome you into the fold?”

“The fold?” Scorpius asked.

“Yeah, our special group of mischief makers,” Albus said. “Our dad’s generation had the Weasley twins.”

“Our dad’s dad founded the Marauders. Now it’s our generation's turn.”

Scorpius looked incredulous at first, but it slowly turned into a grin as the two beamed at him.

“What are we called, then?” he asked, in which Albus cheered and James slung his arm over Scorpius’s shoulder.

“Don’t know yet,” James said as he turned them back towards the fireplace, where the bluebell fire was still shining merrily at them. “But I guess we have the rest of the night to find out.”

They settled themselves down by the fire, playing the abandoned cards and games the three boys had left behind, eating the rations James and Al had hidden away and spent the rest of the night talking and planning their next escapade.

Scorpius could scarcely believe his turn of luck. Had he really just went from social outcast to part of a ‘cool club?’ It almost felt like a dream come true and he refrained from pinching himself in case it was. He wanted to enjoy this for as long as he could.

As the sun started to come up, symbolizing a new day, Scorpius himself felt renewed. He felt as if he was shedding that scaly and rough skin he had surrounded himself with and underneath that was brand new fur, warm and golden. For the first time ever, he knew what it felt like to want to roar.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was a headcanon I had for the longest time, Scorpius being in Gryffindor. This story is an unplanned addition to a series I had planned on writing about an OC character (who was not introduced in this story) and her adventures at Hogwarts, and this, I guess, could help build the set-up. After writing this story, though, I kinda want to continue with it. I hope you enjoy this little spin into the Harry Potter fandom again. All my previous HP works can be found on FF.N under the name Shelly LeBlanc. They are very old, just as a warning.


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